


Side by Side and Step by Step

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, big man soft for small lady, emotionally supportive engaged couple respecting the heck out of each other, yknow typical dimileth stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: Following the end of the war, Byleth finds that adjusting to her new life as Archbishop and queen-to-be is more challenging than she anticipated. Lucky for her, she doesn’t walk this road alone.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 183





	Side by Side and Step by Step

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the My Beloved zine on Twitter! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and meeting more Dimileth fans through the experience. Many thanks to those who gave me feedback and encouragement, and thank you to all who supported the zine, as well! It’s a fantastic collection and I hope you enjoy it as I have! <3

“Something’s on your mind.”

Dimitri’s observation is gentle, an invitation to listen rather than a request to explain. It prompts a grateful smile but Byleth doesn’t meet his eyes just yet, instead continuing to gaze out over the sleeping city.

They really shouldn’t be up this late. The ceremony won’t start until noon tomorrow, but for the two of them it will still mean rising before dawn to make sure every little thing is prepared and ready to go.

A year of planning and it will still be a busy, bustling, stressful morning.

As forthright as Byleth usually is, she still takes the extra few moments to choose her words, wary of blowing the issue out of proportion. Dimitri has enough on his mind already without fretting over her.

When she takes a little too long, he hesitantly speaks up. “If it’s about the wedding－if you’re having second thoughts, I understand. A year is a long time to wait, especially with all the responsibilities that we’ve had to…” He looks over when she touches his arm, her smile turned reassuring and a little amused. Despite how long she’s known him, it’s still odd to see his usual confidence waver like this, to be suddenly reminded more of her uncertain student of the past than the war-torn, assertive king he’s become.

_Odd, but not bad_ , Byleth thinks. She’s touched to be so trusted, counted among those around whom he’ll lower the walls of his public face.

“Nothing like that,” she promises him. Her eyes are drawn again to the impressive sight of Fhirdiad, stories below their balcony and stretching out towards the horizon all around them. Dimitri’s city.

Starting tomorrow, it will be hers, as well.

“I’m thinking about what will happen afterwards,” she murmurs.

“Most things will remain the same, will they not?”

Byleth nods. “That’s just it.”

Naturally, she’ll have a lot more to learn and adjust to. She’s not sure what to expect of a married life, for one. She hasn’t exactly had many examples to follow. She knows _some_ things will change in that regard, not least of all because their relationship has been much the same as it was prior to Dimitri’s proposal. There are shared glances now, softer and more frequent touches, things of that nature, but they’ve remained rather casual with each other all the same.

Dimitri aside, she expects most other things to remain the same－most notably, her new responsibilities and all the pressure that comes with them. She’s lucky, truthfully: Dimitri has been with her every step of the way, always ready and eager to help, and the daunting task of planning a royal wedding has been made much lighter thanks to their friends, who gladly pitched in from the moment it was announced.

Even so, Byleth will soon be _queen_. The word weighs on her mind much more heavily than _mercenary, professor,_ or even _Archbishop_ ever did.

And as queen, there are some pressures she must learn to handle alone, or at least with minimal input from others. And in that regard－

“I’m not sure I’ve made much progress,” she admits.

She glances up in time to catch the subtle shift in Dimitri’s expression. Most would probably think it a simple frown, but she reads concern and mild surprise in the look. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done exceptionally well.” He settles his hand against the small of her back, smiling warmly. “I never doubted you, of course, but you’ve exceeded my expectations. Not many could rise to the challenge of solidifying a divided church and rebuilding a broken country－but you have, and as always you’ve put your all into it. You’ve made such a difference as I could never have done on my own.”

He gently rubs her back and she finds herself mirroring his smile. “If you don’t feel as though you’ve progressed,” he muses, “perhaps that’s because you haven’t had to. You’ve been remarkably capable for as long as I’ve known you.”

She knows without a doubt that his words are sincere, but she can’t help shaking her head with a small laugh. “That’s－ironic, coming from you. You made readjusting look so... easy. I think I envied you a little at the start.”

Dimitri’s hand pauses. “Truly?”

Byleth nods again. There are the small things, of course－the way he never allows his blind spot to linger in one place for too long, how his shoulders will sometimes tighten when he’s touched unexpectedly, his clear appreciation and craving for even the smallest gestures of affection she gives him－but overall he’s assumed his position with as much grace and poise as one would expect of a man raised for kingship since birth, with hardly a hint of how far he once strayed.

Looking back now, Byleth is impressed by how true to his word Dimitri was about disregarding his status back at the academy. He’s still kind and respectful to everyone, but there’s a clip of authority in his tone that he didn’t have then, the natural inclination to assume command in any situation rather than automatically defer to hers. He slipped back into his world of etiquette, politics, and constant public scrutiny so smoothly that it was as though he never left it.

“It helped,” she goes on. “You’re a good example to follow, even when you aren’t helping me directly. Not just with the big things, either, but… all of it.”

Dimitri’s expression turns a little wry. “If this is about the dresses, I apologize. Even I have no sway over fashion trends.”

Byleth twists her lips but fails to hide her sheepish smirk. She doesn’t mind dressing nicely, but her friends (Mercedes and Dorothea, especially) have been particularly enthusiastic ( _merciless_ , Byleth thinks) about keeping her “ahead of the fashion curve” and making certain she’s “nothing short of stunning” at any remotely important event she attends (every single one, in their eyes). Aside from how long it takes simply to get ready, Byleth has had no problem with it－until the night she returned late to her quarters and couldn’t find a maid to help her out of the extravagant dress, let alone the mess of knots that was the corset underneath, and ended up knocking on Dimitri’s bedroom door for his help. It hadn’t occurred to her how awkward it might be for him, but his stammering and struggle to make eye contact told her what he wouldn’t. After he snapped two strings in his embarrassed fumbling, he finally apologized and left to fetch a maid personally.

Not until much later did Dorothea’s smug look, prying questions, and disappointed reaction the next day make sense to her.

As far as Byleth’s concerned, the only embarrassing aspect of that memory is how helpless she was against a dress, of all things. She’s glad they can laugh about it now.

“No, not that.” She gently bumps her shoulder against his chest, only to immediately rethink the gesture and remain leaning against him. “Just… everything,” she repeats. “I heard a lot of things about how different the life of nobility was. Even so, it’s… not quite what I expected.”

During the war, she caught a glimpse of what being royalty would entail through Dimitri’s late nights and exhaustion: legal rulings, public declarations, matters of territory and taxes and labor and finances and other things she never had to think about. What she didn’t expect were the small things, the mundane, the proper times to sit and stand and which utensils to use during certain meals. On bad days, those small things pile up to be just as stressful and grating as the big ones.

Dimitri brushes her hair back from her shoulder. He’s generous with his touches, but never overbearing. “If you’re worried about fitting in, beloved, you needn’t worry. You’ve already made quite a name for yourself without a crown. Our people love you.”

Her breath catches at _our_. Had she a heartbeat, it would likely skip at the way his voice lowers and softens on those last few words.

She lifts her head to meet his gaze and Dimitri’s touch shifts smoothly to cup her cheek, his skin rough but warm. It seems like he’s always warm, always radiating with his love for her.

As tempting as it is to let the moment last, Byleth straightens up and takes a step back. She presses a brief kiss to his palm, assuring him it’s not a rejection of the gesture, and then takes both of his hands in hers. The look he gives her is curious but patient as he waits.

“I don’t have any regrets about the choices I’ve made,” she promises him, gripping a little more tightly in emphasis. “It’s just that this is the first time that my abilities have really been called into question. Until now, I’ve always been able to just… jump into whatever role I was given. I relied on the skills I already had to get me through. Even when I went from mercenary to professor, that was enough.”

She pauses, holding her breath for a couple seconds. “Even when I was made Archbishop, I think I felt the same way. I’d already been leading the Knights for a while, and I knew a lot of the clergy personally. Seteth’s responsibilities stayed the same. It didn’t feel like that big of a step up from what I’d been doing. But this… is different,” she murmurs. Her eyes fall to Dimitri’s chest. “There’s so much more to consider. I have to think about the outcome for _both_ sides in every conflict, not just one. It’s like…”

She searches for the right words. “It’s like there are dozens of different things to focus on, but they all make up one big picture that I need to pay attention to at the same time. Before now, I only had to focus on a few, and they were usually the ones I knew well. Now, it’s… so much more than that.” She looks up at him. “I thought a year would be a long time, but it went by so fast. And now, I still don’t... feel any closer to figuring out just who and what I need to be for this to work.”

Dimitri listens with an attentive but stoic face, finally glancing aside when she falls silent. It’s difficult to tell what his thoughts are as he looks out over the city, but she knows he’s considering her words thoroughly and carefully.

As for Byleth, the weight in her chest feels a little lighter. She isn’t asking him for a solution－he can’t have all the answers－but confiding in him gives her a feeling of peace regardless. It makes her feel like she can do just about anything, if she only stops and reminds herself that she isn’t alone on this difficult path.

“In truth,” he says slowly, “we are not so different in that regard. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve doubted myself and all that I’ve done. How often I’ve stood before the people and wondered if I’m qualified to lead them.” Catching Byleth’s expression, he adds, “A king must be a pillar for his people at all times. I am not always as confident as I appear.”

He looks down at their hands. “I am far from wise in matters of leadership. I feel the best advice I can offer is that there is no model of perfection to imitate. You should follow your heart, as it has yet to lead you astray.” He gives her fingers a light, fond squeeze as he smiles again, the look confident and affectionate. “Cut your own path, Byleth. That has always been your strength－I believe that with all that I am.”

It’s different when it comes from him, she thinks. His expectations are justified, weighed rationally from experience and knowing her strengths without demanding too much of her. To know that he’s watching her, that he believes in her, is comforting rather than concerning. He’s a pillar of support and honest reassurance as well as an inspiration.

He isn’t the only one, either. Byleth has had a few examples to look to, leaders and activists who showed her the dos and don'ts through their experiences. She suddenly wonders when and how Jeralt decided he was fit to command people on the battlefield. She tries to imagine where a young Rhea found her strength when the people she loved so deeply were hurt despite her best attempts at leadership. She imagines how much pain and doubt Edelgard must have had to swallow to justify putting her plans into action.

Lost in those thoughts, Byleth doesn’t immediately respond. After a moment more, Dimitri’s expression turns a little more serious.

“All the same,” he says pensively, “if you need time to work through your thoughts, I understand. I’m aware that I’ve asked much of you ever since… no, even before I asked for your hand. I’ve said as much before, but truly, you’ve always done so much and never once complained.” He sweeps his right thumb over the back of her hand. The left, she knows, no longer has that range of motion. “If you like, I can relieve you of some of your current responsibilities. You can focus solely on the church for now and gather your bearings. Just until you are decided about where you would like to stand.”

There’s nothing but kindness and concern in his voice, the compassionate fear of having asked too much and the loving desire to make amends. He isn’t doubting her, Byleth knows.

Even so, her answer is immediate and firm.

“There’s only one place I want to stand. Beside you.”

Byleth may doubt her qualifications, but she knows what she wants.

She wants to go on rebuilding this country that she worked so hard to liberate. She wants to give back to the people who look up to her and support her. She wants to take responsibility for the foundation she helped Dimitri create. She wants to go on making a difference and helping him live this life he’s chosen.

And a little more selfishly, perhaps, she wants that _human_ feeling it all gives her. Just like meeting her students opened her heart to emotions she never knew she was capable of. Just like Dimitri’s proposal exposed her to the possibility of both overwhelming happiness and terrifying vulnerability. She can build and raise herself into someone who lives to protect and help others－not just the mindless wave of destruction she was once content to be, back when she didn’t know that there was something better than that. 

It’s an intimidating prospect, to be sure. There are days when Byleth is overwhelmed by the amount of emotion she cycles through, nights when she still feels _off_ in the wake of the surreal five-year gap missing from her memory. At times it all seems too wide a bridge to cross.

And it probably would be, were she on her own.

“I know it will be hard,” she goes on, back straight and tone resolute, “but that’s fine. I’ve never had a cause worth fighting for that was easy.”

A new smile breaks slowly over Dimitri’s face, an approving look, as though he expected no less of an answer than that. He nods. “Indeed.”

“So… no, you don’t need to relieve me of anything. I’ll find my footing,” Byleth promises. It’s made just as much to herself as it is to her fiancé. “Just as long as you don’t go easy on me,” she adds with a tilt of her head and a pointed, playful look. “I need the honest criticism.”

He chuckles at that. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of patronizing you so.” Shifting his grip, he raises her hand and presses a brief kiss to her fingers. It’s not so much the touch as the way he holds her gaze that sends a small, pleasant chill down her back. “I don’t doubt that you can do anything you set your mind to,” he breathes against her skin. “But know that I am here at your beck and call for anything, my beloved.”

There’s a note of finality to that remark and Byleth knows he won’t make his previous offer again. He will surely give it if she asks, but he trusts her words and her choice completely and won’t second-guess her determination.

In that regard, their relationship is certainly the same as it’s ever been: an exchange of trust and respect, honesty and understanding. Perhaps what they are won’t have to change tomorrow, after all. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that there will be _more_ to them rather than anything different. The two of them will likely fumble as they work out each other’s wants and needs－and as Byleth figures out her own－but they’ll learn from those gentle mistakes. They’re kinder teachers to one another than many of the other lessons in their lives have been.

With a small smile Byleth turns his hand over to kiss the back of it, mirroring his gesture. “I thought the king was second to none,” she teases.

Dimitri hesitates, looking almost wary of the remark as though there’s a trick question hidden in there somewhere. He’s adjusted well to her humor. “I am ever second to those I protect,” he replies. “My authority means nothing if it doesn’t serve the people. To do that, I believe a wise king should always favor his strengths.” He leans down and his words ghost over her hair, tickling her scalp with warmth. “And _you_ are my strength.”

Byleth feels her face grow warm, but she’s pleased by the heartfelt words. She slips her arms around him and he does the same, holding her against him with mindful tenderness.

For a long, content moment, they’re as simple as that.


End file.
